


Like The Flicker Of A Flame

by SlytherinSweetheart (Cherrypie62666)



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: After Hogwarts, Falling In Love, First War with Voldemort, I Dunno If I Can Kill Anyone Off, M/M, Post-Marauders' Era, Probably No One Dies, Roommates, Slow Build, This Is Why We Can't Have Nice Things, Why Did I Write This?, probably canon divergence, wolfstar
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-01-20
Updated: 2018-01-20
Packaged: 2019-03-07 04:14:19
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,088
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13426578
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Cherrypie62666/pseuds/SlytherinSweetheart
Summary: Taking a large gulp of his drink, he winced slightly as it burned the back of his throat.  “Horrible,” he mumbled, smacking his lips together nosily as he set the glass back down.  “Muggles really need to learn how to make good liquor.”“We’ve fire whiskey at home,” a voice spoke softly in his ear, causing Sirius to start.  Turning, he stared up into equally liquid amber eyes, the curve of full lips kickstarting his pulse to a rapid staccato in his chest.  “But I get coming out to drink.  It’s nice to pretend to be normal now and then.”“Or every night, in my case,” Sirius said with a smirk, propping his elbow up on the bar and leaning his head against his curled fist.  “I didn’t expect you for some time, yet.”





	Like The Flicker Of A Flame

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I wrote this forever ago, decided to make something of it.

It was a chilly night in October.  Icy winds whipped through the streets of muggle London, stirring up the fallen leaves that littered the ground in swirls of reds and yellows as black boots clicked their way down the otherwise empty sidewalk.  Sirius had just finished up another night of patrols for the Order, and like most nights, he fancied himself a nice strong drink to wash down the bitter taste of growing unease that clung to his insides like the fog creeping its way across the dewy grass.

Shrugging further into his well-worn leather jacket to fight the cold, he glanced up at the numbers above the doors lining the street.  Finding the one he was looking for on the end, he slipped inside the small establishment on the corner like a shadow, neon sign in the window flashing orange and gold, signaling other patrons to follow.

The interior was dimly lit, soft blue lights painting the mahogany wood in hues of rippling purple.  Quiet music played on the jukebox in the far corner of the room, a splattering of folks here and there occupying the majority of the little round tables set out in the center as they enjoyed what was left of their Sunday evening. 

Slipping onto an empty stool at the bar, the seat groaned unhappily beneath his weight, black vinyl cracked and leaking out small tufts of wispy fluff.

“What can I get for you,” an older gentleman asked him in a gruff voice, dragging his gaze up from the strange ripples and pocks in the thickly glazed wood. 

He was probably just shy of fifty, with close-cropped silver hair, icy blue eyes, a crooked nose, and thin lips.  His ears were too large, his neck three shades darker than the rest of his sallow looking skin.  The man watched Sirius patiently with a stoic expression on his weathered face, hands occupied drying out the inside of a pint glass with a grey stained rag.

Flicking stormy eyes across the row of bottles lining the little shelf along the mirrored wall, Sirius clicked his tongue in contemplation.  “Double shot of whiskey, straight up,” he murmured, pulling the pack of cigarettes from the front zipper pocket of his coat.

The man nodded and got to work filling a small cup with amber liquid, sliding it over to him before pulling out a paper pad and retrieving the small pencil from behind his overly large ear.  “Is that all?”

“No.  I’ll start a tab, thanks,” he replied, striking a match and kissing the flame to the end of his fag before shaking it out and setting it down in an already half-full ashtray.  Smoke billowed from the end, the tip glowing a fiery red as he inhaled a long drag and let it out in a wash of thick white fog.

The bartender scribbled something down with another nod and then left, returning himself to the task of stocking the shelves below the bar at the opposite end.

Taking a large gulp of his drink, he winced slightly as it burned the back of his throat.  “Horrible,” he mumbled, smacking his lips together nosily as he set the glass back down.  “Muggles really need to learn how to make good liquor.”

“We’ve fire whiskey at home,” a voice spoke softly in his ear, causing Sirius to start.  Turning, he stared up into equally liquid amber eyes, the curve of full lips kickstarting his pulse to a rapid staccato in his chest.  “But I get coming out to drink.  It’s nice to pretend to be normal now and then.”

“Or every night, in my case,” Sirius said with a smirk, propping his elbow up on the bar and leaning his head against his curled fist.  He took another slow drag from his cigarette, letting it out in a rush through his nostrils.  “I didn’t expect you for some time, yet.”

Remus hummed quietly as he took the stool beside him, eyes scanning the crowd for familiar faces he wasn't actually eager to find.  When it was clear no threat was upon them, he turned back and quirked his mouth in a smile.  “Yes, well, the watch took less time than anticipated.  No point in staying when we’ve bagged our man.”

Eyebrows rose in surprise as Sirius stubbed the remainder of his cigarette into the glass tray.  It was still halfway to the butt, but he didn’t care.  Remus didn’t much like it when he smoked, anyhow.  “Travers finally let you catch him, then,” he asked, a bit skeptically despite the utter faith he had in his friend’s abilities.

“He did, but as expected, he’s squeaky clean so we had to let him go.  No doubt the ministry will go soft on him for some time after, probably had someone else pulling the strings so we’d have to turn down the heat for a while.”

“Bloody Death Eaters think they’re so smart,” Sirius muttered bitterly, wincing at the horrible taste of his drink as he took another small sip.  “Probably are, too, since we’ve yet to catch them in the act of doing more than picking their arses and playing innocent.”

Remus smiled thinly in response.  “How was the Lestranges,” he asked, waving down the bartender to order a pint of something dark and frothy.

Sirius watched the bob of Remus’ throat as he took his first timid drink, ignoring the urge to reach out and wipe away the collection of foam that still clung to the werewolf’s upper lip.  “The same as it has been since I started two weeks ago.  A whole lot of watching a mostly dark house stay completely vacant.  I’m sure Bella and her husband are long gone and taunting our efforts as we speak.”

“You’ll get moved again soon, never fear,” Remus said with a soft pat on his leg, causing a shiver to shoot up his spine at the warm touch.  “Just be thankful it’s still quiet for all of us.  It won’t last long, not with the recent string of new disappearances.”

“I’m going stir crazy with all of this waiting,” he admitted, ignoring the sudden clench in his stomach.

Pursing his lips, Remus eyed him oddly.  “Would you rather the Death Eaters come knocking on our flat and try to _Avada_ us on sight?  What if we’re half asleep and in our underwear?  That’ll be the talk at our funerals, that we were found arse up and almost nude.”

A smile curled his mouth, grey eyes shining in the dim glow of light.  “At least it would be a little action,” he quipped.  “We could have a jolly good time prancing about half starkers as we fight for our miserable lives.”

“You’re mad,” Remus said with a laugh.  “And I’ll not have it.  Not if I can help it.”

“The wards on our flat will keep them out,” Sirius reminded him coolly.  “Dumbledore and Moody have made sure of that much, at least.”

“Indeed,” the other replied quietly.  Taking another slow sip of his drink, his amber gaze swept across the row of bottles in the back.  Setting the glass back onto the counter, the skin of his nose crinkled slightly in disgust.  “You’re right, though.  About the muggles and their taste.”  Sparing a sidelong glance, he quirked his mouth.  “I don’t know why I agree to come out with you almost every night.  It’s not like I find much pleasure in it.”

Fluttering his eyelashes playfully, Sirius smiled sweetly at his friend.  “It’s because I’m hard to resist,” he breathed, chuckling when Remus turned to him with a sour look on his face.  “And because it’s bloody boring being cooped up inside half the day with nothing to do.”

Remus nodded solemnly.  “I agree.  But there are other bars, you know.  Ones that have better drink to partake in.”

“Wizard bars mean more chances to run into someone we know, particularly those who wouldn’t allow us a moment’s reprieve.”

“I thought you wanted action,” Remus said with a smile, twirling a finger along the top of his glass slowly.

Sirius snorted in response.  “Not while I’m trying to enjoy a relaxing night after a long and tiresome day of sitting on my arse.  Out there, sure.  When it means we find ourselves that much closer to ending this war, so we can continue with our lives in peace.”

“You mean you can,” the other reminded him grimly, the corners of his mouth pulled down in a gentle frown.  “I’m afraid this is all the work I’m ever going to get, what with you know what as a black mark on my permanent record.”

A dull ache resonated deep inside of his chest and Sirius had to stop himself before he said something damning that might ruin the small bit of happiness he had left in his life. 

Order members were cautioned into living in areas that kept them safe from unnecessary attack by Voldemort’s followers and their numerous sympathizers.  It hadn’t been difficult to persuade the werewolf into living with him out of necessity, and not that his family was any bit safer with him gone, but he couldn’t deny that the reasons for attacking the Lupin household diminished significantly without the man staying with them. 

After the war, when the threat on their lives was back to a small percentage chance, keeping Remus around was going to be a tough feat to accomplish.

Another ache throbbed through his chest at the thought and he knocked back the remainder of his drink, swiping at his mouth with the back of his hand.  “Right, so, what’s in store for tonight,” he asked in a chipper voice, betraying no hint of the sadness locked down in his core.

Remus hummed in amusement as a smile curled his lips, flicking his gaze somewhere behind him before lifting his arm in a half-hearted shrug.  “There’s a beautiful woman a few seats down that’s been staring at you since I got here.”

Glancing that way completely without tact, Sirius caught sight of the woman in question just as her eyes skipped away suddenly, a slow pink tinge painting her pale cheeks.  She was alright, as far as women are concerned, with a head of auburn hair and a lowcut shirt that showed just how well-endowed she truly was.  If it were four years earlier, he’d have no problem prancing over with a devilish smirk, plopping into the seat beside the woman and flirting to his heart’s content.

The problem now was just that, his heart wasn’t in it.  There were other things he’d rather do, and most importantly, another person he’d rather spend his time with.  Smiling softly at the woman who smiled back, he waved down the bartender for another drink.

“I’ll take another double if you don’t mind.  And whatever the lady over there is having.  You can put it on my tab but tell her I politely decline to converse with her tonight.  My friend here would be lonely all by himself.”

Remus gaped at him with widened eyes, looking caught between incredulous and concerned.  “Are you feeling all right," he asked in a hushed tone, wary of the bartender's seemingly perked ears. "Don’t hold back on my account.  You know I’m perfectly capable of apparating back home and calling it a night.”

Waving a flippant hand, he shook his head.  “Honestly, I’m not interested.”

“Is it because she’s a muggle?”

Sirius couldn’t help but laugh outright.  “Hardly.  I’m not my family, I don’t discriminate over something so meaningless as blood or magical ability.  You know me better than that.”

Remus frowned in response.  “Then what’s wrong with her?  You chased around girls in school with half her looks and-” pausing, he licked his lips nervously, eyes blinking rapidly as he thought of a kind way to state it.  When nothing else came to mind, he waved a dismissive hand, looking a bit put off.  “You know, assets.”

A wolfish grin curled his lips.  “And were I interested, those would be all the reason I needed.  But I’m not.  Flirting is fun, but that’s all there is to it.  I’m not really looking for a fling at the moment.”

“Are you sure you’re feeling all right,” Remus asked, watching him with concerned eyes.

“Trust me, Rem,” Sirius replied as he accepted his drink and took a hearty sip.  Closing his eyes, he allowed the taste to coat down his throat, warming his insides quite nicely.  “I’ve never been better.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This probably won't touch too much on the war, I don't really want it to end up dark and depressing. Maybe.  
> I don't intend on it being lengthy or anything, either. But I'm also wordy and who knows, maybe I'll think up something interesting to do before I get too far to turn back, and this will be a long ass 70K or more. Only time shall tell, eh?
> 
> So, I guess just enjoy the ride.  
> I'm sick right now, I don't need to make sense or do things well. 
> 
> Hit me up on Tumblr - Cherrypie62666


End file.
